Day 1. The plane lands at 2pm. The runway is short, the terminal is a hangar, there are dogs sleeping in the shade of banana trees. Welcome to Siargao.
Day 3. First session at Cloud 9. The wave is more powerful than expected. I miss the first three, I understand the fourth. Allan watches from the lineup without saying anything. Afterwards, he just says: “You’re looking at the foam too much. Look further ahead.”
Day 7. I’m starting to recognise faces. The coconut vendor at the entrance to the Cloud 9 path is called Boy. He has been there for twenty years. “Before the tourists, I had five customers a day. Now I have fifty.” He says it without anger. Just a statement.
Day 11. Interview with Marco, the shaper. His workshop smells of resin and light. He shows me a board he made for his father in 1994. It is still perfect.
Day 15. A day without waves. We take a boat to the next island over. No resort, no WiFi. Two fishing families, a red dog, palm trees leaning toward the water. We eat grilled fish straight from our hands.
Day 21. The season is changing. The northern swells stop. The water becomes different — softer, flatter. Allan says this is when those who are truly there stay, and the others go home.
Day 28. Last session. No one else in the water. Allan, me, the waves. He surfs a set in silence. I watch him more than I surf. I take a few photos, then put the camera away.
Some things can’t be photographed. They are carried differently.
Day 30. The plane leaves at 7am. The runway is short, the sky is pink, there are dogs sleeping in the shade of banana trees. I watch the island until it disappears into the clouds.
I will come back.